


It beats for what?

by issaparker



Series: Long Journey Ahead [2]
Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Gen, Kang Taehyun-Centric, Mentioned TXT Ensemble, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22953466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issaparker/pseuds/issaparker
Summary: Running is all he thought about firsthand.Hiding would be second.
Relationships: Kang Taehyun & Everyone
Series: Long Journey Ahead [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649524
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	It beats for what?

**Author's Note:**

> A sneak preview of the upcoming sequel to Trip to Busan ;)
> 
> Decided to post this here since people have been wondering and also giving confirmation of more characters. Buckle up because this won't be easy for the both of us.

Running is all he thought about firsthand.

  
Hiding would be second.

  
He'd be lying is he said he didn't already know how to do this. Bullies come at him all the time, sure they're fast and stupid but they're humans. Humans tend to get stupid and that gives him an advantage to run, hide, sneak away so easily.

  
But these? These are _zombies_.

  
" _Left! Go left, Hyung_!"

  
The thunderous sound of their footsteps speeding in the empty hall way was all that was heard besides the yelling of directions. They skipped, sprinted, sped, in all actions, zooming down the area as the following sounds of other irregular footsteps come after them.

  
The five of them weren't so lucky to be saved by the military, nor by security. No one in Daejeon was. The infection came like a tsunami, one after another, bite after bite, they lost so many. Families, friends, acquaintances, pets-

  
Lost, _lost, **lost**_.

  
Right before their eyes.

  
School had barely started that day. It was a quiet morning for him. He doesn't know about the others, but was doing fine; left home with a proper goodbye to his parents, didn't get harassed by his next door neighbor about his life choices, and didn't run into his daily bullies that seem so adamant on picking on him. It was a good day so far.

  
He should've known. Should've taken caution of the warnings presented by the surrounding military in his neighborhood. Should've processed the words in the articles he barely glances over this morning on his phone. Should've listened clearly to the school janitors' loud, frantic gossip near the entrance. Should've noticed so clearly why Somi wasn't behaving properly, why she lashed out on some classmates, then _attacked_ them-

  
He should've read the signs.

  
Now he's here, with four survivors, all teens, all young- all very unprepared. Now he's here, with those four survivors, running from a threat that's not to be taken lightly, that's chasing them so fast, so quick-

  
Now he's here.

Him and four other survivors, all teens, all young- running through the halls of a large, now abandoned building near the train station in Daejeon, with the clear intention of trying to escape the city without running into military, without running into obstacles, without running into-

  
His thoughts broke free when he sees the silhouette of an undead soldier, right through the glass he's running against. There's a wide, gaping hole now, shards flown everywhere, screaming of the four survivors with him, calling his name.

  
And him?

  
Well, he falls, because the zombie is trying its best to dig into his skin. He says no, and grabs his pocket knife, gritting his teeth and stabbing the small weapon into the soldier's head with a vicious grunt, toppling the body off of him, gets back up, out of breath.

  
"Go! Go! I'll catch up!" He yells to his best friend, who looks horrified and hesitant, but the youngest in their group is tugging him to move forward. With no choice, his best friend faces back forward, and he can see the heartbreak of leaving.

  
He has to move.

  
There's more footsteps coming, loud and even more irregular, but down the hall, there's supposed to be a way out. An emergency exit, right next to the station. He can't give up- _he has to move, **he has to move.**_

  
Running is all he thought about firsthand. He grips his pocket knife tightly, ready for any more attacks. He runs, runs and runs. He ignores any distraction, any intense growl right next to his ear, any searing pain he felt through his legs, his wrist, his left arm, his stomach- his eyes are only dead set on the group of friends right at the end of the hall.

  
They're yelling for him. They're _urging_ him. They're desperate for him to live. He needs to move. He has to move, his mind supplies. _Everyone's gone, you're lost. But you're alive. You have people alive. That's all that matters now. Don't die in front of them. Don't let yourself die. You have a chance, take it to live, take it to run, take it to **survive** , goddamnit!_

  
It's almost like lightning striking down his muscles, speeding up his movements to acceleration. He dodges all types of grabbing from the fast zombies that catch up to him, focusing instead on the yells of his friends. Focusing on the people he has to go with. On the people he survived with and will survive further.

  
He grabs onto his best friend's hand when he's a few steps away from the entrance and he's _yanked_ in. He goes plummeting to the ground not before crashing into his friends while the doors slam shut, getting locked in the process and keeping the horror and dangers out of his reach.

  
"Oh god- oh _fuck_ \- you're okay.. you're safe.. Oh god- were _all_ safe.."

  
He takes his time, catching his breath, taking large gulps of air that slowly minimize to careful intakes, to pattern his breathing in less ragged and panicked ways. There's hands on his head, petting him softly, caressing it, providing reassurance of his safety. He's slowly coming back. The feeling of severe fear that rocks in the corners of his mind vanishing as he uncurls himself from his best friend's embrace.

  
He's only breathing shakily now that he slowly stands up, eying all four of his friends with a wavering but sure smile. "We're okay?"

  
The self-proclaimed leader, whom they all definitely agreed to, nodded, "We're oka-"

  
His leader's eyes dart from him to his arm, his face contorting from relief to concern with a gasp. He, himself, follows his leader's eye direction, traveling from his group mates, to his own body, all the way to his left arm, the one that still stings a little. It's bleeding, and he winces.

  
"I forgot about that." He mutters sheepishly, reassuring his friends that it only stings just a little bit. The feeling is almost gone when he decides to pull up his sleeve.

  
But when he does, his knife drops, clattering to the ground.

  
The wave of fear and all his nightmares of today came washing over again, drowning out any rational thought of the world anymore. All his motivation of survival, living, for his friends, for those around him- crushed, now. All hopes of _living_ \- living a better life than what he'd experienced today, living and moving on from the unimaginable plaguing horrors of the day, surviving from the disease that took his classmates, his friends, and probably half of Korea- half of the world-

  
All of it.. _**gone**_.

  
Because right there, above his blood trickling wrist, sitting ugly across his arm -the one he used to prevent the zombie that knocked him down from gobbling into his neck- is a large, perfectly open flesh wound of a human sizable _bite mark_.

  
His large eyes seemed to grow wider than ever before. His world spun, the darkness of the day catching up to him now. He quickly uses his other hand to wipe away the blood from his arm, making the wound sting a little more at the pressure he held against it. He begins panicking, wiping the flesh continuously, as if it'll disappear.

  
He shakes his head repeatedly, uttering, " _No, no, no_.." Over and over, staggering back and forth. All form of sane and rational thought was out the window. His time is over.. he's over.

  
**Game over.**

  
" _Ta_ -"

  
"Shit, watch out!"

  
He doesn't have the mind to react anymore. His friends are backed up suddenly, and it takes a second before his mind is brought to the attention of a singular zombie near the pillars of the entrance, running its way clumsily but fiercely to him and his friends.

  
He doesn't have the guts to accept his fate.. it's over for him. He couldn't believe this. All that time, running and running, hiding and dodging, avoiding all cause of danger that led to the fallout of this day.. _wasted_. He was still caught in the end.

  
It's depressing, really. Such a shame to have the world turn on him like this. His mind doesn't boggle any sort of shameful feeing, however.

  
Instead, it's dead silent.

  
His friends are calling his name, they want to save him still, even after witnessing his demise. The bite mark stings, but he doesn't feel like turning. He doesn't feel like he's losing his mind just yet. So while he still has the chance.. while he still has his life, to use it for one last thing..

  
One last _moment_..

  
He swiftly reaches down to swipe the pocket knife when the zombie remains in close proximity. Without much thought, and with a heartbreaking, painful battle cry, he forcefully stabs the sharp object right through the zombie's neck, not wasting a second as it chokes, then yanks the weapon to his right and slices it's throat open to dirty flesh and bones, splattering out of its place, the despaired scream that goes along with it dies down in seconds, and he ends the attack with the loudest shout of, " ** _FUCK!_** "

  
The zombie drops abruptly, making his friends gasp and flinch in fear as the body smacks against the floor unhealthily. He doesn't turn around, stiff in his bones, stiff in his skin. His blood had already run cold. His limbs already feel unowned. His mind isn't his anymore. His heart doesn't beat for life. It doesn't beat for him. It doesn't beat for his friends.

  
It beats for his _failure_..

  
. . .

  
He failed.

  
He _**failed**_.

**Author's Note:**

> Man if the MC ain't obvious in this one I dunno what to tell you guys. I love him, he deserves to be here despite what I just did.
> 
> Anyways, hope you liked it :)


End file.
